The Epiphany of Wrongs and Pancakes
by StriderX
Summary: Movieverse. In which Tony discovers the meaning of being wrong and Pepper develops the science of pancakes, strawberries, syrup. Twenty questions in the Malibu sun. She may have to fall asleep at work more often.
1. The 'Not Right'

**Author's Note:** Yes, I agree this is not a particularly 'original' little snippet, but before you say it, let's make it clear I wrote it strictly for relaxing purposes. Read and enjoy if you'd like, or just go off and find some other story if you're tired of the over-budding romance of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Thank you and good day.

**Disclaimer:** Oh yes, Stan Lee and all you other guys, you're really going to come onto a fan-site to sue me for glorifying the characters you've drilled into our brains. Yes. That makes perfect sense.

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**The Epiphany of Wrongs and Pancakes  
****I. The 'Not Right'  
By: StriderX**

Tony Stark had always known many things. When it came to mechanics and maths, there had never been a time (he could remember) in which he was wrong. Thus, he was used to being right constantly and simply could not accept the possibility of being…not right. He knew there was a word for it…what was it?...ah, yes. _Wrong._ Honestly, he very rarely thought he could ever be wrong. Misguided, yes, but not wrong. It was something that just didn't happen.

But yet, as he heard the melodic click of towering stiletto heels coming closer, gears jammed in his brain and complete and utter not-understanding, uncomprehending confusion shattered his mental karma and froze him still.

For a moment, he wondered if time had simply escaped him, but when his glance passed over a clock, eyebrows furrowed. _2:25 a.m._ He knew Jarvis would've informed him immediately at the presents of an intruder, but why would _she_ be here…_now_?

Shaking his head of the dangerous thoughts running about his head, Tony tried his best hand at nonchalance as the perfectly ticking melody turned the corner and stopped just inside the basement workshop. He tried to ignore her, but instinct quickly betrayed. In the clear light of the shop, his eyes glued first to the fiery hair pulled—as always—into an immaculate bun. Then, drifting a little too slowly down to the deep blue suit expertly tailored to dip with every curve of her hourglass frame. And last, past perfect legs to the strapped navy stilettos arching her feet to an exact 60o angle off the floor. …well, he thought, at least his math was still intact.

"Mr. Stark?" her smooth voice suddenly shook him. Had he been staring?

Mentally, he smacked himself. "Ms. Potts?" he shot back, coolly. "What're you still doin' here?"

Ms. Pepper Potts looked at him with a strange smirk, tilting her head a bit to one side. "I work here, Mr. Stark."

Tony bounced a greasy engine piece between his hands. There was a slightly patronizing look on his face. "Pepper, it's 2:30 in the morning."

"Yes, and I still have two reports to write up."

"Uh-huh…reports that can't possibly wait till a more decent hour, right?"

Pepper bowed her head just a bit and flinched her grip on the intelli-tablet in her hands. "Actually, reports that _you_ promised to finish two weeks ago…and yes, they are due tomor—" she paused, looking and the wall clock. "in six hours."

And just as quickly, Tony suddenly felt no more then an inch tall. The word staggered through his brain again. Absolutely, utterly _wrong_. Bowing his head in shame almost childishly, he ran an oily hand through his hair. "Oh…" for a moment, he was at a loss. He hoped she saw it as genuine. "I'm so sorry, Pepper. I completely forgot."

This time Pepper grinned, though not without slight disappointment. "I know," she replied simply. And suddenly, changed the subject, pulling the tablet into reading focus. "I just need your decision on the donation to the "G.R.O.W." foundation."

Leaning to a sit against his hot rod's front right tire, he feigned professionalism. Inside, he still felt a horrible pang; forgetting…_again_. "How much?"

Pepper looked to the tablet, though all the numbers had been long since memorized. "500,000."

He whistled, surprised. "Do trees need that much?"

That same trademark professional amusement crossed her features. "To replant an entire forest, yes, sir."

"Well what do you think?"

Pepper wanted to look back to her tablet, but he held her gaze with a lock and key. "I think it's a better investment then weapon's development."

Tony snorted softly through a white grin. "Then approve away, Ms. Potts."

"Yes, sir," Pepper made a quick note on the tablet and peaked up through thick lashes. He was staring again. "Is there anything you need?"

Quickly Tony shook his head of the (hopefully) unseen mental fantasy. "Huh? Oh, no, Pepper…just picking up the toys before bed," he smirked, shaking the machinery in hand as proof.

She smiled and began to turn back to the hallway. "Good night then, sir."

She was walking away now. "Hey," he called quickly, too casually for genuine. "You sure they can't wait? …I mean, you look tired, is all."

Pepper stopped, turning to him for just a moment. "This isn't my first last night. I think I'll be fine."

Tony just shrugged. "Suit yourself…I'd just turn 'em in late."

And just before making her way again, she flashed him a wry smirk. "And that's why I'm here, sir."

**TBC.**

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**First Bit:** Yes, but aren't all first chapters short? Review if you can, I always appreciate...please point out grammatical errors. There are four chapters of varying length in total. The second will be posted tomorrow.


	2. Dreaming in Syrup

**Author's Note: **Thank you single, kind reviewer.

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**The Epiphany of Wrongs and Pancakes  
****II. Dreaming in Syrup  
By: StriderX**

In typical Tony Stark fashion, the sun had an easy race against his mid-morning rise. As blinding rays shone through intelli-glass windows, he finally stirred from his sleep…though much sooner then he would've hoped. Suddenly, the screens exploded with information pertinent to the day ahead.

"Sir," Jarvis began peacefully. "I believe you will want to wake up now."

Groaning from sleep, Tony twisted under the light sheets. "Time?" his voice was deep, gravelly, and extremely annoyed.

"9:30 a.m., sir."

For a moment, Tony lifted his head from the pillow and stared at a wall, disbelief coating his face. "And I want to get up now _why?"_

"Because, sir, Ms. Potts is still sleeping," Jarvis sounded almost amused.

Instantly, Tony jumped up. Disbelief to gleeful surprise, like a boy just told he best friend was coming for a visit. "She's still here?!" his voice was all too excited.

"Yes, sir. She fell asleep on the couch in her office after sending out the last of her work."

A wicked grin passed his face. "Thank you, Jarvis. I think I _do_ want to get up now." After throwing on a white undershirt—the blue glow of the arc reactor shining through—and stealing a quick look in the mirror, he left his bedroom barefoot and pajama clad.

Pepper's office was on the other side of the house, half a floor down. But just as ornately modern and meticulous as the rest, the open room had a high ceiling and a perfect view of the Malibu coastline. The intelli-glass windows were tinted dark, blocking out the sun. The cool leather sofa and calming pale blue walls created the perfect environment for much needed sleep. Curiously, silently, Tony cracked the white wood door and peaked inside the darkened room.

The smile on his face was purer then ever as he spotted his loyal assistant curled up on the couch. If her eye's had been open, she'd be staring right up at the painting he's bought her two years before. He thought she looked so peaceful, so young—her hair let loose and suit jacket strung across the couch back. Her intelli-tablet rested blankly on the floor next to her, along with those famous blue stilettos. With no blanket, she'd tucked her bare feet under a pillow for warmth.

Without a sound, Tony tiptoed up to her with a soft cashmere blanket held in one hand. With a certain deep fondness he could no more explain then he could understand, he spread out the throw and lowered it carefully over her body. She stirred a little, but only to burrow into the cuddly new warmth. Absently, he bent down and brushed a lock away from her sleeping eyes and placed a gentle, protective kiss upon her forehead. But as reality struck him inside, he stood tall and flashed his best playboy grin—though he knew he's never treat her like all the others…he understood them.

But her, he thought with one last look before leaving the room and shutting the door, her he could never understand.

...

Awakening that morning was a very strange sensation for Ms. Pepper Potts. Eyes still closed and thoughts on the border of subconscious, she relished the warmth and protection that enveloped her. She couldn't quite describe it then, but there was a scent and a sound; so far off but so familiar that sent her waking mind spiraling back to dreams.

_Lying on the beach, sun warming her skin._

_The distant lull of waves crashing into the shore. _

_The deep scent of Tony Stark lying next to her, gently caressing the thin line from navel to rib cage: up and down, each pass softer, warmer then the last. Like…wait…_

Tony Stark?!

She bolted awake, an overwhelming rush of blindness spinning from the speed of her sit. When sight finally returned, the far off drull of waves was replaced by the deafening pounding of her heartbeat. The blue walls, the familiar desk, brilliant sea sky painted outside the window…

"Oh no," she murmured helplessly, head in her hands. Had she really fallen asleep at work? …had she _really_ fallen asleep in _his_ house? And possibly even more important: _where_ did that blanket come from?!

Slowly, shaking the shock—or maybe embarrassment—from her system, Pepper strapped on her shoes and pulled her jacket back into place around her shoulders. Slightly satisfied, she ran a hand through her hair and stood after grabbing the tablet from the floor. While walking to her desk she stopped, confused by the flashing '_access denied'_ flickering across the small screen. "Jarvis?" she called curiously.

"Good morning, Ms. Potts," the AI responded lightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," and come to think of it, she really had. "Jarvis, why can't I log into the computer?"

Jarvis took a moment to reply. Pepper stared at a wall, waiting for an answer. "Mr. Stark has temporarily blocked you from the system, Ms. Potts."

"What?! Why on Earth would he do that?" a million thoughts ran through Pepper's mind at once. Was he mad at her for not going home? Had she done something wrong? In nine years, he'd never shut her out. Why would he shut her out?!

"Mr. Stark would like you to join him for breakfast in the kitchen before you start your work, Miss,"

Pepper was floored. She had nothing to say.

"He's been cooking and preparing for the last half-hour."

Her eyes widened and voice finally returned with an uncontrollable giggle. "_Our_ Tony Stark…_cooked_?"

Pepper couldn't help but laugh. Tony Stark: playboy, billionaire, owner of thousands of employees—all more-or-less servants—around the world…cooking _breakfast_. She didn't know why, but the vision of her boss flipping eggs in pj's and designer sunglasses was simply too much to keep a straight face.

Suddenly filled with childlike excitement, she quickly folded the spice-smelling blanket on the couch and left the room; navy heels clicking in a swift morning tune.

...

In the lavish, shining kitchen gleaming from the Malibu sun, Tony was having much more fun then he'd ever thought possible. He hadn't made breakfast in years—especially not for anyone else—but was speedily finding it to be a very therapeutic thing. He was whistling merrily, half-way through the first batch of pancakes when the percussion melody deafened his ears. It was quicker then usual, but not rushed. He wondered if it was the spring in her step that made his heart jump. Just after, he wondered why he'd never thought of it before.

When Pepper turned the corner to the open kitchen, the stoic expression she'd practiced melted away at the sight of him: pajama-clad (a white wife-beater covering his chest), thick hair ruffled in every direction (oddly sexy, a little voice inside giggled), and that purely innocent boyish grin as he whistled some jovial tune. He looked up from the stove in mid-pancake-flip. "Good morning!"

She leaned against the free standing island holding the stove, facing him. …a comfortable four feet away. "Yes," she grinned. "It is. What are you doing, Tony?"

Good, first names, he thought. This _was_ personal, after all. There was to be no mention of Stark Industries or the day's schedule in this. _This_, this was just him and her. "Flippin' pancakes, of course."

Her expression was mockingly exasperated. "Well, yes. I see that," her eyes drifted questioningly to the line of cut fruit, cereal boxes, eggs, and bacon lining the counter.

He shrugged. "I wasn't sure what you liked…so I figured I'd pull out everything, just in case."

There was still a smile as she saw the casually set breakfast table on the deck outside. "You really don't need to do this—"

"Aah!" quickly, he cut her off, spatula pointing to her nose. "Yes I do," he paused, gesturing with the steel utensil. "Think of it like…compensation for a late night."

And then, it clicked. Pepper almost blushed. He was apologizing to her for the forgotten reports.

_This_, was a monumental moment.

She decided the best thing to do at this point was roll with it…after all, pancakes and fresh fruit _were_ her favourite. She straightened up and shot a quick look of 'professional' approval. "Pancakes, with strawberries and syrup then, Mr. Stark."

If possible, his grin grew wider. "Coming right up, Ms. Potts. There's fresh coffee and juice on the table," his head nodded toward the deck. She suppressed her grin slightly and tore her eyes away from his and to the deck. "Get comfy…I'll be out in a minute."

**TBC.**

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**Second Bit:** This is the longest chapter, though, in my thoughts, not the most powerful. That's coming. Till later then.


	3. Twenty Questions

**Author's Note:** Truly, thank you all for the kind reviews. I'm so glad my little daydream is as enjoyably to you as it is me.

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**The Epiphany of Wrongs and Pancakes  
****III. Twenty Questions in Three  
By: StriderX**

Pepper held her breath, begging not to trip as she walked out to the deck—she knew he was watching her every move with more then normal interest. This concept was one that was both deeply exciting to the girl in her, but utterly terrifying to the woman. What she had successfully fended off for nine years was finally happening…without protest. She couldn't explain it…it just felt _right_. And in one of the few times in her life, she had no idea how to react.

So, she did what anyone in her situation would've done: she poured herself a tall glass of orange juice, a short mug of coffee, and sat down, undyingly curious to see what would happen next.

In an eternity of three minutes and twenty-three seconds, the glass door slid open and Tony emerged pushing a metal cart elegantly covered with two plates (each holding three pancakes and a little ball of butter), a big bowl of strawberries, a plate of little sugar cookies (he knew she loved those), and three small glass pitchers (hot syrup, bubbling chocolate sauce, and fresh whipped cream—a little odd in a pitcher, but okay).

She giggled as he filled the table with the most beautiful breakfast she'd ever seen. With the sun shimmering over the blue horizon and the soft soundtrack of waves kissing the beach, all that was missing was—

"Oh!" Tony yelped, running back inside. In an instant, he reemerged with a short glass vase filled with white lilies and beautiful pink and yellow orchids. As he placed it in the centre of the table, her grin finally escaped. Now, this was completely perfect.

She couldn't help herself. "Oh, Tony, this is gorgeous!" her voice was surprisingly quiet, stunned.

He smirked proudly while sitting across from her; never once did his eyes leave her face. Nothing in him cared that he was being a little _too_ forward. "Well, let's just hope it's edible."

She giggled again, pushing a stray bang back behind her ear. For a moment she looked over the rail and to the crystal ocean below. "What a beautiful day."

He followed her gaze, but part of him was still staring at her. "Yeah…" but not as beautiful as you, he added mentally.

Abruptly, she turned back toward him, glaring him down as if she'd really heard that last part. A thousand times in a second Tony ran through his mind; he had just _thought_ that, right? Then, just as quickly, she smiled again and moved her attention to doctoring up her pancakes. He watched in utter fascination. Pancake, butter, strawberries, syrup. Pancake, butter, strawberries, syrup. Pancake, butter, strawberries, syrup. And finally, with a guilty little smirk, a perfect dollop of whipped cream right on top.

"Wow," he whistled. She looked over at his plate (still just pancakes and butter) as if signaling his turn. He took the hint and happily spooned out some strawberries over the cakes, smothered them with chocolate sauce, and topped with a significantly less perfect plop of the fluffy white. She was still smiling, but shaking her head with a slight roll of her eyes. Undaunted, he grabbed his fork and nodded. "Yum!"

In silence, they ate, simply enjoying each other's company and the perfection of the whole morning. For the first time in a long time, neither of them could think of what time it was or where Tony was undoubtedly supposed to be. For once, it really was just the two of them and a simple summer breakfast. There was still half a pancake on her plate when she put down her fork and relaxed in the cushioned metal chair. He was still trying to get up all the chocolate sauce without actually licking the plate.

Finally, he looked at her, same boyish grin coating his face.

"Thank you, Tony, for this," Pepper began; suddenly feeling entirely comfortable. "It was wonderful."

Tony put down his fork and leaned back in his own chair. "Pepper, what's your favourite colour?"

Her delicate eyebrow's arched slightly, surprised by the seemingly random question. "What?"

"It occurred to me this morning that after all these years, there's very little I know about you. Your favourite colour, for one."

"Oh," she honestly did have to think about it for a second. As simple as it was, it's not a question people asked her often. But then, as she looked out over the shimmering azure sea, she smiled. "Blue, I think."

He nodded, satisfied. "What's the first thing you remember?"

She was a little stifled by the 'twenty questions', but that wasn't stopping her from thinking…or answering. "I remember…before I was a year old, I was sitting in a stroller in a park, staring at the sky," she turned back to the blue. "and there was this green and yellow butterfly that landed on my nose. I thought it was the most beautiful thing."

For a long minute, she could feel Tony peering through her eyes and into her soul. There was a true, genuine expression on his face like nothing she'd ever seen before. When he finally spoke again, his voice was significantly softer, raspier; more emotional then it had ever been. "And what about your first kiss?"

"My first boyfriend in high school," she, too, was taken aback by the new tone her own voice had adopted. Tony found it almost forbiddingly sultry. "On our second date he took me for an evening picnic," she giggled, too caught up in the memory to be nervous anymore. "He was so nervous; he held his breath for so long I thought he'd pass out. He actually _asked_ if he could kiss me."

And there was the silence again, this one lasting much longer as the two unconsciously got lost in the other's eyes. His were always so dark and glimmering with only the subtlest hint of chocolate auburn in their depths. Hers were such a rich blue that blended perfectly with the sea: sparkling and still in the sun, but stormy and full of life underneath.

Finally, Tony found his voice. "Pepper?"

"Hm?" she was still so caught in his soul.

"May I kiss you?" the words came like a dying man's very last plea, like it's fulfillment would somehow lift his death and spring him to life again.

She heard the words, but more then that, she _felt_ their meaning. At any other time, she would've quickly rolled her eyes and thrown up the barriers all over again: typical Tony Stark playboy, she'd say. But _today_, today she _felt_ him inside her…she _felt_ the gravel in his voice turning about her heart and melting it with the friction of infinite possibilities. Absently, she thought that this may be the single most emotional, genuine thing he'd ever said.

"Yes."

Tony felt as if he'd been walking on a cloud—or at least, what he assumed walking on a cloud would feel like if it were actually possible. But who cared about logics right then? He'd just been given _permission_ to kiss the woman he was fastly loosing his mind for.

He couldn't remember moving, or even kneeling before her. He couldn't remember placing one hand on the arm of her chair or caressing her cheek with the other. He couldn't even remember how many heartbeats flashed by in ten seconds' time. All he knew was that there, under the glowing mid-morning sun, his lips met hers and slowly, agonizingly, they leaned into each other and painted the purest, gentlest kiss that ever existed.

Inside, their hearts felt to jump out of their chests and dance together for a moment; a graceful, romantic waltz in the warm summer air.

He grinned through the paradise. He would never understand her. He would never understand why she always stayed by his side or why she was sitting there right then, kissing him just as fervently. But just this once, the whole world and every colour in it suddenly just…made sense. In that moment, there was no 'Iron Man', there was no Stark Industries, and there was no 'Mr. Stark' and 'Ms. Potts'. Right then, there was only the two of them, kissing under the glowing Malibu sun.

**TBC.**

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**Third Bit: **Yes, the fateful kiss. Only one more left. Just tying up the ends.


	4. A Better Wind

**Author's Note:** Sometimes the shortest of words mean the most.

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**The Epiphany of Wrongs and Pancakes  
****IV. A Better Wind  
By: StriderX**

…and then, with a heavy sigh from both that swirled together and vanished in the breeze, it was over.

Pepper leaned back, shaking hand to her lips. Tony couldn't move; every muscle in his body frozen with her.

She'd been silent for so long, Tony was beginning to think maybe he'd done something wrong. But…he _had_ asked, right?

Slowly, as her lips parted and hand steadied, a careful grin grew into a trembling fit of soft, angelic giggles.

He stared at her, speechless, with a dumbfounded look coating his face. Is this good or bad?, he panicked slightly.

"_That,_" she finally began, "was definitely better then my first kiss."

Part of him wanted to joke, to shoot back some completely 'Tony' remark and make light of the whole morning. But he'd come so far…

"Pepper…I…"

She shook her head with that perfect smile. "Tony, this was perfect. Thank you."

He sighed, leaning away from her a bit. He couldn't say it…she didn't want him to…_yet._ And for the first time, he was okay with just being patient. He cleared his throat and stood, offering her a hand to follow. As she did, he smirked. "Maybe we could do this more often?"

The 'this' in that sentence holding more weight then Pepper would've ever imagined before. Still, the idea didn't scare her. Not after that kiss. "I'd like that, Mr. Stark."

Tony looked down for a moment and ran unnoticeably trembling fingers through his hair. "To work then, Ms. Potts?"

She nodded, and in a flash a gust of wind blew and the dance of their hearts was ended, each heart placed safely back in its place until another day. Tony felt his heart beat inside as she walked into the house, away from him. Strangely, as he listened to it thump in his ears, he thought it felt a bit lighter. He smiled, wondering if maybe, just maybe she might feel the same.

**End.**

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**Last Bit:** Thank you for reading. A writer, no matter what breed, is nothing without someone to read their silly little words. Best wishes.

By the way, please don't tell me to continue this. This is all I have planned to write and _all_ I will write for the time being. I am very glad you enjoyed it, but please...enjoy it for was it is, not what it could be.

**Strider**


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